Tales Of My Town - Poem by Mohammed Nazeef
We are all distant relatives
A blood lineage intertwines our destinies.
It was peace and harmony.
We were many brothers of the same parents.
We shared the happiness.
And ate from God’s mercies.
Till the beast came to my town and made it its own.
Tearing us apart, dividing our ties, Veiling our vision.
Enmity poisoned the faith that spread through our veins.
Hatred conquered our minds.
And the love that ever lived now lingered in scarcity.
We forgot our roots; that we all came from the same womb.
Blood spilled, tainting divinity.
Unity was broken into sects.
One was broken into many.
So our relations became weaker and weaker.
Hypocrites were seen at the mosques and also at the battleground.
Hypocrites were seen at sanctuaries and also at the warzone
Fueled by politics, money and power.
Dressing every place with the sin in their bullets.
That travelled and sought refuge in men’s flesh.
The sirens always reminded us of our plight;
The curfew was enough of a monument.
The devil was smiling; Sons of Adam murdered lives they never created nor could ever create.
Mothers felt most of the pain, crying didn’t help anyway.
And as God watched, I wonder how He felt.
Emotions grew wilder and the tears overflew its banks.
I paid the price; stigma followed me everywhere I went.
Fathers said they never had money for books.
But signed bank cheques from the same hand were issued for rifles.
Now we had many warriors but few disciples.
Schools closed, its gates wailed for justice.
Prisons got flooded, its gates begged for relief.
So were the morgues and the graves.
And hospitals couldn’t get more tired of casualties.
Children suffered the consequences, marooned in ignorance.
Many of them were becoming orphans.
Shocks, hysteria and the trauma harassed their feeble emotions.
The cold memories wouldn’t leave their minds.
A ravenous virus that might decide their future.
A bright future to be ruined by the slide shows of pain, murder, gore and massacre.
Today, let’s look into each other’s eyes.
And tell whether we do not resemble.
And tell whether we do not emerge from the same tree.
What are we fighting for?
What are we dying for?
What legacies are we leaving behind for a generation?
What if we held hands and help hoist the flag?
What if we killed the selfish desire and let harmony live?
Bury our differences and resurrect our rich history of brotherliness.
Then everybody could taste the fruit of greatness.
And brighten our city with smiles and chuckles.
If peace lives in our hearts, then peace will live in our city, in our country, continent and the whole world.
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